CHUCK MARKULIS MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT @ HARD TIMES, SACRAMENTO
DAY 2
I woke up Saturday morning, very early. I couldn't have slept in if I tried. I was so excited to embark on this journey! For those of you who don't know me very well, I will give you a small background of my pool playing history.
I turned 21 in March, 2005. That July, I got a job as a cocktail waitress at a sports bar in my hometown of Grand Junction, Colorado. I had never picked up a pool cue before, so I really had no idea what the game was all about. It all started because I would play pool with my regulars when I got off work. I had no clue what I was doing. My stance was awful, I didn't know how to make a closed bridge, or even an open bridge, for that matter. Although I picked things up quickly, it wasn't until I moved to California that following December that I really started to learn. My mom had played in the APA both in Colorado, and then in California when she moved in 2004. Along with her, and many other local players that took me under their wings, I started to learn many new skills and strategies of the game. My mom helped me with my fundamentals, and I took bits and pieces of information and started putting it all together. Soon enough, my game was improving quickly. To make a long story short, I shot for 3 years in APA events and local tournaments when I met Ramin. Meeting him, and learning that he saw a raw talent and a fierce hunger in me gave me inspiration. After that, I vowed that one day I would play with the pro's.
We gathered our pool cues and went downstairs to eat some breakfast in the hotel. My stomach was full of butterflies, so Raisin Bran and some fruit were about all I could fit. Once everyone was full, we piled into the car and headed down to the pool room. Pulling into the parking lot, you could feel the slightest bit of tension in the car as we all stepped out and walked up to the building. Whatever tension we felt before that couldn't compare to what slams you in the face as you open that door and step into the room. The pressure literally weighs on your shoulders. Your pool case feels heavier, your heart pounds, and breathing suddenly becomes a chore. As I walk through the sea of familiar faces, exchanging excited greetings with them, I feel anxious, but surprisingly confident. I find Shirell and Joey whom I play with out of Shooters in Riverside, and set up camp at a table with them. I smile as my hands shake while I put my stick together. Shirell and I practiced for a few racks together, and I feel very confident. I am in stroke, and seeing the patterns. The players meeting is announced and we pack up and head to the tournament room. I find Ramin, and we sit and listen as the rules, format, and sponsors are explained. I find it hard to concentrate on what the tournament director is saying as I look around the room at all the amazing talent. True artists. At that moment, I suddenly didn't feel like playing...I wanted to watch.
Finally, the meeting was over and they started the calcutta. I decided to just walk around and keep warm until they posted the board. The clock ticked slowly, and I tried my best to just think pool. Feel pool. Be pool. After a while, I went back inside and went up to look at the board. The feeling of seeing my name just spaces away from the infamous Efren Reyes made me smile. This is what I've been working for. I was on the second board, so it would be a while before my match would be called. Hurry up and wait.
DAY 2
I woke up Saturday morning, very early. I couldn't have slept in if I tried. I was so excited to embark on this journey! For those of you who don't know me very well, I will give you a small background of my pool playing history.
I turned 21 in March, 2005. That July, I got a job as a cocktail waitress at a sports bar in my hometown of Grand Junction, Colorado. I had never picked up a pool cue before, so I really had no idea what the game was all about. It all started because I would play pool with my regulars when I got off work. I had no clue what I was doing. My stance was awful, I didn't know how to make a closed bridge, or even an open bridge, for that matter. Although I picked things up quickly, it wasn't until I moved to California that following December that I really started to learn. My mom had played in the APA both in Colorado, and then in California when she moved in 2004. Along with her, and many other local players that took me under their wings, I started to learn many new skills and strategies of the game. My mom helped me with my fundamentals, and I took bits and pieces of information and started putting it all together. Soon enough, my game was improving quickly. To make a long story short, I shot for 3 years in APA events and local tournaments when I met Ramin. Meeting him, and learning that he saw a raw talent and a fierce hunger in me gave me inspiration. After that, I vowed that one day I would play with the pro's.
We gathered our pool cues and went downstairs to eat some breakfast in the hotel. My stomach was full of butterflies, so Raisin Bran and some fruit were about all I could fit. Once everyone was full, we piled into the car and headed down to the pool room. Pulling into the parking lot, you could feel the slightest bit of tension in the car as we all stepped out and walked up to the building. Whatever tension we felt before that couldn't compare to what slams you in the face as you open that door and step into the room. The pressure literally weighs on your shoulders. Your pool case feels heavier, your heart pounds, and breathing suddenly becomes a chore. As I walk through the sea of familiar faces, exchanging excited greetings with them, I feel anxious, but surprisingly confident. I find Shirell and Joey whom I play with out of Shooters in Riverside, and set up camp at a table with them. I smile as my hands shake while I put my stick together. Shirell and I practiced for a few racks together, and I feel very confident. I am in stroke, and seeing the patterns. The players meeting is announced and we pack up and head to the tournament room. I find Ramin, and we sit and listen as the rules, format, and sponsors are explained. I find it hard to concentrate on what the tournament director is saying as I look around the room at all the amazing talent. True artists. At that moment, I suddenly didn't feel like playing...I wanted to watch.
Finally, the meeting was over and they started the calcutta. I decided to just walk around and keep warm until they posted the board. The clock ticked slowly, and I tried my best to just think pool. Feel pool. Be pool. After a while, I went back inside and went up to look at the board. The feeling of seeing my name just spaces away from the infamous Efren Reyes made me smile. This is what I've been working for. I was on the second board, so it would be a while before my match would be called. Hurry up and wait.
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My match was finally called. My opponent was a gentleman named Robert. He won the lag. As I was racking, I was just doing my deep breathing, trying to get my hands to stop shaking. I felt a little jittery as I lifted the rack away from the balls, and placed it in the holder. Shirell was playing on the table right next to me, and at first it was a little difficult to focus. We kept making small talk, until she said "We better stop talking before your coach has your head..." I silently agreed and nodded as I peered across the room at Ramin who was in the middle of a match with the young man who had taken 3rd place in the tournament, the year before.
I won the first game and then he tied it up with the next. We took it to 2-2, then he got up on me 4-2. I came back and got the next two, and brought it to 4-4. He won the next game, then I won the next, making it 5-5. I broke, and came up dry, and he ran out that rack. He broke, didn't make anything, and I stepped up to the table, with no shot on the 1 ball. I saw a perfect safety in which I could bank the one to the other side of the table, and bring the cue ball over to rest behind two balls that were clustered up. If I could just get it behind those balls, it would be very difficult for him to get a good hit, because the other balls were in places that limited his kicking areas. I was worried about hitting it too hard, so I stood up, and looked at it one more time. I got down on the shot. Stroke, stroke, stroke...and I shoot the ball. The 1 ball banks, and goes down to the head rail, I can tell it is going to sit up, and be about 3 inches off the rail. I like it. But then as I bring my eyes back to the cue ball, I see that I made a mistake. It is rolling directly into the balls. It won't go behind them. The cue ball hits the 5 and sits in the middle of the table. He doesn't have an easy shot, but now he can play defensive, and leave me nothing. He hits the 1 ball, sending it two rails into a cluster of balls. The cue ball, comes down the table and comes to rest right against the 8 ball. I have NO shot. I can't see the one, and I see no possible way to hit it. I decide to try to slow roll another ball and tie up the 1, 3 and 6. I can see that if I hit it just right, then he won't have a shot. I will have to play safe again, even with ball-in-hand. I look at it very closely, making sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing. It will work. It's a perfect touch shot, but it will work. I shoot it. The ball rolls up, and sits right on the 1 ball. It has NO pocket to go into.
Success.
I hand him the cue ball, and walk back to my seat. He looks at the situation and sets the cue ball down. I know he is going to play safe on me, but I'm not sure how yet. Finally, he moves the cue ball about an inch, gets down and aims. After a couple gentle strokes, I am shocked when he slams the living daylights out of the cue ball. I have no time to even digest the situation as 2 balls randomly fly into pockets and the cue ball, and one ball come to a stop in the middle of the table. I am speechless. All my hard work, and strategy has become obsolete, and I watch helplessly as he proceeds to run out the rack.
Lesson learned? Never underestimate your opponent. Just when you think they will play one way, they turn around and throw a major curveball at you. Although I lost the match, I was thoroughly content with myself. I played well. I played skillfully, and smart. Other than a few errors, I shot very well. I was not disappointed.
I went to the board to see who I would be playing, and how long it might be. I learned it would be about an hour, and I would be playing, of all people, Shirell. We drove 6 hours to play each other. Go figure.
I won the first game and then he tied it up with the next. We took it to 2-2, then he got up on me 4-2. I came back and got the next two, and brought it to 4-4. He won the next game, then I won the next, making it 5-5. I broke, and came up dry, and he ran out that rack. He broke, didn't make anything, and I stepped up to the table, with no shot on the 1 ball. I saw a perfect safety in which I could bank the one to the other side of the table, and bring the cue ball over to rest behind two balls that were clustered up. If I could just get it behind those balls, it would be very difficult for him to get a good hit, because the other balls were in places that limited his kicking areas. I was worried about hitting it too hard, so I stood up, and looked at it one more time. I got down on the shot. Stroke, stroke, stroke...and I shoot the ball. The 1 ball banks, and goes down to the head rail, I can tell it is going to sit up, and be about 3 inches off the rail. I like it. But then as I bring my eyes back to the cue ball, I see that I made a mistake. It is rolling directly into the balls. It won't go behind them. The cue ball hits the 5 and sits in the middle of the table. He doesn't have an easy shot, but now he can play defensive, and leave me nothing. He hits the 1 ball, sending it two rails into a cluster of balls. The cue ball, comes down the table and comes to rest right against the 8 ball. I have NO shot. I can't see the one, and I see no possible way to hit it. I decide to try to slow roll another ball and tie up the 1, 3 and 6. I can see that if I hit it just right, then he won't have a shot. I will have to play safe again, even with ball-in-hand. I look at it very closely, making sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing. It will work. It's a perfect touch shot, but it will work. I shoot it. The ball rolls up, and sits right on the 1 ball. It has NO pocket to go into.
Success.
I hand him the cue ball, and walk back to my seat. He looks at the situation and sets the cue ball down. I know he is going to play safe on me, but I'm not sure how yet. Finally, he moves the cue ball about an inch, gets down and aims. After a couple gentle strokes, I am shocked when he slams the living daylights out of the cue ball. I have no time to even digest the situation as 2 balls randomly fly into pockets and the cue ball, and one ball come to a stop in the middle of the table. I am speechless. All my hard work, and strategy has become obsolete, and I watch helplessly as he proceeds to run out the rack.
Lesson learned? Never underestimate your opponent. Just when you think they will play one way, they turn around and throw a major curveball at you. Although I lost the match, I was thoroughly content with myself. I played well. I played skillfully, and smart. Other than a few errors, I shot very well. I was not disappointed.
I went to the board to see who I would be playing, and how long it might be. I learned it would be about an hour, and I would be playing, of all people, Shirell. We drove 6 hours to play each other. Go figure.
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I wandered around for a long time, just waiting for our match to be called. I watched matches between hot shot players that I knew, and tried to absorb my surroundings as much as I could. Finally, the match between Shirell and I was called. We would be in the tournament room on table 8. We found each other in the main room and walked in together, laughing at the fact that we had to play each other, when we could have just stayed home and done the same thing. As I was putting my stick together, I looked up, and noticed that two tables over, Efren was just beginning his match as well. All of a sudden, my mind went to his match.
Shirell and I lagged for the break, and I won. As she racked the balls, I couldn't help but watch as Efren seemed to float around the table, making shot after shot. It was time for me to break. I chalked, got down, aimed, stroked a few times, and then miscued. Ball in hand to Shirell. She proceeded to 3-foul me on the first rack. Dirty...but I would have done the same thing, probably. So I let it go. She broke, and we ended up batting the balls around for a while, neither one of us seeming to be focused on our match. The score was 3-1, in favor of Shirell. She broke, and ran. 4-1. The last game, I must say was a bit of a blur. By that time, my focus was so out of whack, that I just didn't have the heart to pull myself back into the match. I had basically threw in the towel. All I could think of was getting done with this so I could finish watching the match that Efren was in. Shirell eventually ran out the rack, and I was officially out of the tournament. For once, I was not sad or disappointed by this. I was actually a little relieved, because now I could simply watch and learn. Take in all the things going on around me, and not worry about when my match would be called. It was a first...and after this experience, I hope it will be the last time I am relieved to get knocked out of a tournament. I have gained that experience...playing next to the best in the world. Now...I can move past that, and the next time I am in the room with true legends, I can feel the true feeling of belonging there. I can play my best. I can focus.
After I went outside and soaked in some rays, I went back in, to watch more pool. Ramin was still in, as well as Tang and Kent. So I was making my way back and forth between their matches, and also watching all of the other big dogs do their thing. The shot-making, the cue ball control, the discipline, the focus, the determination...the heart. Those are all of the things that I saw as I watched these fine players shoot. Watching crushing defeats, and gut-wrenching comebacks, feeling the determination as it seemingly oozed from people's pores. I saw some players get frustrated, while others maintained straight faces. Some of the players seemed cocky, while others seemed to shrink away from the table. Some players blurted out obscenities, while others remained calm and collected. As I watched all of these things happened, I noticed the patterns. Saw the inevitable happen. Watched as the ones who remained calm, walked away with victories, while the ones who were upset the entire match, walked away from the match with a loss, and even more frustration.
I really noticed this as I watched one of Efren's matches. He was making a lot of small errors, but instead of dwelling on it, and getting frustrated, he laughed. He would have this almost silent chuckle escape from him, as he would walk around the table examining the situation. Then, he would get down on the next shot,and make it as though he had perfect shape. He let things go. And he did it with a smile. There were no frustrated sighs, he never rolled his eyes at himself. He never said anything, he never even seemed to look disappointed. The entire match, even when he missed a shot, or hooked himself, Efren was able to take it for what it was. He was still at the table. The only one who could get him away from the table, was himself. The matches that I watched Efren play, really showed me a lot about having determination, composure, and most importantly, heart.
It may not be something I learn over night...but one day, I hope to be somewhere near his level as far as the mental side of the game goes. I have a million more tournaments to play, and a million more shots to miss. I'm working on it.
Sacramento Day 1
Sacramento Day 3
Shirell and I lagged for the break, and I won. As she racked the balls, I couldn't help but watch as Efren seemed to float around the table, making shot after shot. It was time for me to break. I chalked, got down, aimed, stroked a few times, and then miscued. Ball in hand to Shirell. She proceeded to 3-foul me on the first rack. Dirty...but I would have done the same thing, probably. So I let it go. She broke, and we ended up batting the balls around for a while, neither one of us seeming to be focused on our match. The score was 3-1, in favor of Shirell. She broke, and ran. 4-1. The last game, I must say was a bit of a blur. By that time, my focus was so out of whack, that I just didn't have the heart to pull myself back into the match. I had basically threw in the towel. All I could think of was getting done with this so I could finish watching the match that Efren was in. Shirell eventually ran out the rack, and I was officially out of the tournament. For once, I was not sad or disappointed by this. I was actually a little relieved, because now I could simply watch and learn. Take in all the things going on around me, and not worry about when my match would be called. It was a first...and after this experience, I hope it will be the last time I am relieved to get knocked out of a tournament. I have gained that experience...playing next to the best in the world. Now...I can move past that, and the next time I am in the room with true legends, I can feel the true feeling of belonging there. I can play my best. I can focus.
After I went outside and soaked in some rays, I went back in, to watch more pool. Ramin was still in, as well as Tang and Kent. So I was making my way back and forth between their matches, and also watching all of the other big dogs do their thing. The shot-making, the cue ball control, the discipline, the focus, the determination...the heart. Those are all of the things that I saw as I watched these fine players shoot. Watching crushing defeats, and gut-wrenching comebacks, feeling the determination as it seemingly oozed from people's pores. I saw some players get frustrated, while others maintained straight faces. Some of the players seemed cocky, while others seemed to shrink away from the table. Some players blurted out obscenities, while others remained calm and collected. As I watched all of these things happened, I noticed the patterns. Saw the inevitable happen. Watched as the ones who remained calm, walked away with victories, while the ones who were upset the entire match, walked away from the match with a loss, and even more frustration.
I really noticed this as I watched one of Efren's matches. He was making a lot of small errors, but instead of dwelling on it, and getting frustrated, he laughed. He would have this almost silent chuckle escape from him, as he would walk around the table examining the situation. Then, he would get down on the next shot,and make it as though he had perfect shape. He let things go. And he did it with a smile. There were no frustrated sighs, he never rolled his eyes at himself. He never said anything, he never even seemed to look disappointed. The entire match, even when he missed a shot, or hooked himself, Efren was able to take it for what it was. He was still at the table. The only one who could get him away from the table, was himself. The matches that I watched Efren play, really showed me a lot about having determination, composure, and most importantly, heart.
It may not be something I learn over night...but one day, I hope to be somewhere near his level as far as the mental side of the game goes. I have a million more tournaments to play, and a million more shots to miss. I'm working on it.
Sacramento Day 1
Sacramento Day 3